The Mangrove Coast (16 page)

I said, “I couldn’t agree more, Frank. But Gail and this guy Merlot are apparently in South America. Right?”

“That’s what Amanda says.”

“And Amanda wants to find her.”

“She wants to know that her mother’s safe. Of course.”

“Well, Frank, I’ve spent a lot of time in South America. I know a lot of people. So, yeah, it’s possible that I can help. Let me ask you this: Your ex-wife, do you consider her a good person, a valuable person?”

“Of course I do. I’ve never doubted that. Gail is a good person.”

“Is her well-being worth a minor emotional risk?”

“I’m not going to dignify that with an answer.”

“Okay, so the question hasn’t changed: How did you react when you found out about Merlot and your ex-wife?”

I waited and waited and finally he said, “Gail and Merlot together? I didn’t like it worth a damn. It made me … it gave me a sick feeling. That’s not easy to admit, by the way. I’m trying to broaden myself as a person. My wife and I are working very hard at enlightening ourselves, becoming wiser, kinder beings. But when I heard that Merlot was seeing Gail, I felt a kind of reflexive emotional revulsion. You’ve never met the man … and I really can’t go into all the reasons why I felt the way I did. But, no, it hit me hard when I found out. Men, all of us, probably,

tend to be more territorial about women than we’d like to admit. So that’s part of it, too.”

“When Merlot refused to pay off, did you two argue?”

“Years ago, you mean?”

“Yes.”

“I wasn’t very happy about it. No one likes to be cheated.”

“It got personal.”

“As in a shouting match? No. I … we had words, sure. But I’m a psychologist, remember. I don’t lose my temper easily. Don’t need to. I’m afraid I have a nasty gift for picking a person’s soft spot and saying exactly what will hurt worst. That’s something else not easy to admit, but I’m working on it.”

“What did you say to hurt Merlot? What’s his soft spot?”

“I’m not sure what I told him … and I don’t see why it’s pertinent. As I said, this was more than fifteen years ago.”

“I think it’s pertinent as hell.”

“Dr. Ford, if I can’t remember, I can’t remember.”

I said, “Look, there’s a chance I may have to go hunting for this guy, Frank. I need to learn all I can about him.”

“I appreciate that. I’m not trying to be difficult.”

“Then tell me what you said to really piss him off.”

There was a silence. “You know what we need to do? Maybe get together for a late lunch, you come up to Boca Grande. You asked if I believe we should be in a hurry to find Gail. The answer’s maybe. I’m in a tough ethical spot. You can understand that. So what I did was hire a private investigator to put together a dossier on Merlot. If someone else generates data, then I’m not responsible for how that data was assembled, right? Not ethically, not legally.”

“That’s an interesting finesse, Frank. Very smart. You told the guy you hired where to look but not why.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“But that would be the smart thing to do.”

“Yes, I suppose it would. The guy’s retired FBI; got an
office off A1A in Delray Beach. Castillo, that’s his name. He was very thorough, very competent. For what it cost me, he should have been. Yeah, I read the report, some of the stuff I already knew from a long time ago. Jackie Merlot has some problems. I knew that, too.”

“How do you think he found out that you and Gail were divorced?”

“I don’t have a clue. I hadn’t thought about him for years. As you’ll see when you read the report, he apparently spends most of his time outside the country.”

“In Colombia?”

“Colombia and Panama City. Over the last ten years, according to the financial stuff Castillo dug up, Merlot has done a number of money transfers between Lauderdale and some of their offshore banks. And he does real estate down there. Sells little bits of paradise to gringos who want to live like kings and queens.”

“Panama City, Panama.”

“Central America, yeah. But to begin with, he was mostly in Costa Rica. That’s what Castillo’s report says. I guess he left Florida after getting out of jail. Costa Rica is a favorite of Americans who want to retire outside the country. No taxes and the dollar’s worth three, maybe four, times what it’s worth here. But he apparently had to leave Costa Rica, too. Castillo wasn’t sure why.”

“And he’s got a place in Lauderdale, too.”

“Just a rental. He paid month to month. It’s in Coral Ridge. Not far from where Gail lived; the house where we all lived when Amanda was growing up. At least Merlot used to live there. He skipped without paying the last month’s rent when he and Gail left. Something that’s more interesting is, he started renting the place just a few weeks before he and Gail started seeing each other.” Calloway paused. “That was a little less than a year ago.”

“You think starting a relationship with Gail was a way for him to get back at you.”

“That’s exactly what I think. I think he realized that she was available and he targeted her. There’s no way to prove
it, but I would bet on it. People like Merlot—he’s an example of a specific pathology, understand—people like Merlot can hold a grudge for decades.”

“Gail met Merlot through you.”

“No. He met her before she became my patient. Before I even knew she existed.”

I was surprised to hear that. “How?”

“Somehow Merlot was associated with a group that was organized to help family members traumatized by unexpected death or injury. This was way back, right after Vietnam, when the country needed something like that. He didn’t get paid for it, it was volunteer work. I think it was through some church. Scientologists? No, but it was a similar kind of thing. She was the newly aggrieved widow, he was the kindly social worker. It sounds like a noble calling, but … well, you learn a little more about him, you’ll see how he might tap into an organization like that as a way of picking out … picking out people to take advantage of. People like him, they’ve got a real gift for knowing how to manipulate the emotionally damaged. A genius for it, actually.”

“He’s a con artist.”

“Maybe. I don’t know that he’s capable of making ethical distinctions. I’m speaking as someone who’s dealt with him in business, understand. Healthy normal children progress from a completely selfish quick-gratification view of life to a more mature understanding that it’s necessary to give and take. I don’t think Merlot ever made it through that developmental stage. At least he hadn’t when I knew him.”

“Do you think he’s dangerous?”

“In a socially destructive sense? Yes. In a criminal sense, I doubt it. But it’s possible. He had very good people skills—not unusual for his … particular type. And physically, he’s huge. I mean massive. But he also struck me as being very tentative and sneaky and cowardly. A mama’s boy. That’s what we used to call people like him.”

“He served time in prison, you said.”

“That’s right.”

“How would a stint in prison affect someone like Merlot?”

Judging from Calloway’s reaction, I got the impression he hadn’t factored in that component. “Well … he was only in for a couple of months. At least, that’s what I heard. I can’t see it affecting him one way or another. But … maybe. Depends on how he was treated, what happened while he was there. I think there was something missing in him before he ever went to jail. Something very basic.”

“How do you mean?”

“You need to read the report. That subject’s covered, plus a lot of other details.”

“Then have your secretary send me the file first thing tomorrow. Overnight it.”

Calloway said nope, he couldn’t do that, and explained why.

I said, “So I’ll come to Boca Grande and take a look. Probably by boat. Is tomorrow okay?”

“I was planning on flying to Lauderdale, but I’ll have my secretary check the calendar. Maybe tomorrow or Thursday at the latest.”

“Betty Marsh,” I said. “I spoke with her on the phone.”

He said, “Smartest woman I’ve ever met. I don’t know what I’d do without her.”

I
keep a P.O. address at the Sanibel Post Office, Box 486. But I also occasionally get mail at the marina, and that’s where Amanda had the overnight package delivered: an envelope containing two photographs plus Xeroxes of several bank statements detailing activity on her mother’s personal account. Amanda called me Tuesday just before noon to tell me to go look, maybe the priority package had already arrived.

“You are one very efficient lady,” I told her.

There was a little frown in her voice this morning. Seemed distraught and a little impatient. “Damn right I’m efficient. What I sent you is a framed picture of Merlot I took from our house. Christ, Mom had it up on the mantelpiece over the fireplace. That face of his looking out like he owned everything around him. I’m sending it mostly to get rid of it. She doesn’t like it, tough. And a picture of my mom and Frank together. When you see Frank, you can give it to him. If he wants it.”

I said, “I think I’ll leave the distribution of family photos to you.”

“Okay, whatever. The bank statements, though. That’s the big news. Pretty shitty news, as you’ll see.”

I said, “Oh?”

“Yeah. You know how glad I am you had me check the mail? Mrs. Patterson, our poor neighbor lady, she couldn’t wait to get rid of it. So I’m sitting home going through this stack of stuff and it starts dawning on me what I’m seeing. I mean, holy shit! I couldn’t believe it. It almost made me sick.”

What was she talking about?

“The bank statements,” she said. “I didn’t make myself clear? Take a look when they get there. They’re self-explanatory. My mom, she’s on this deposit, withdrawal deal where all her bills go directly to the bank and the bank makes direct transfers. Electric bills, charge card, taxes, the whole works all done through proxy. Frank probably set it up that way. Take care of the little ex-wife, make sure he’s still in control of how things get done.”

That bitterness again.

She said, “But the reason I’m sending the bank statements is you’ll see she’s transferred a bunch of money in the last few months in four big lumps. I have no idea why. Three withdrawals of forty thousand, then one for seventy-five thousand. Something else, back in December, almost every day for a month, she made the maximum daily withdrawal on her ATM card. That’s like six hundred dollars times twenty-one, twenty-two withdrawals. Something like that. So the total’s another thirteen thousand dollars plus the hundred and ninety-five thousand from the bank. Major bucks.”

I said, “You need to call Frank right away and tell him.”

“I already tried.”

“You need to keep trying till you get him.”

“Why?”

“He’s the money guy in the family, right? The ex-family, anyway. I just talked to him, and he would have said something if he knew. All that money missing, yeah, he would have said something.”

“I guess.”

“He’d even hint about it to you: ‘Your mom’s been moving a lot of money?’ Or: ‘Your mom’s acting a lot differently since her new boyfriend?’ That’s the sort of thing he might have said.”

“No. Not a word.”

“Then he doesn’t know. Activity that heavy, you’d think the bank’s computers would have flagged it and contacted your mom.”

“They did. I found a letter from the bank saying that if they didn’t hear personally from my mom, they would freeze her ATM card. Some of the earlier statements, they’d been opened before she left for Colombia. I found them in her office file. This letter, though, was among the unopened mail the neighbor’d collected. It was dated January seventh. After that, there were no more withdrawals from her ATM, so maybe they did freeze it.”

“Were any of the withdrawals made before you last saw and spoke with your mother?”

“Yeah, almost all of them.”

“So you have to assume that she knew. She was aware.”

“I guess so.”

“And the bank had no reason to contact Frank.”

“Right. Because the money was drawn on my mom’s personal accounts.”

“Is there any money left?”

“Not much. The CD and money market accounts are all wiped out. In the savings, the balance is like thirteen-five, so she’s got a little left. Look at the statements, see for yourself. I’m so pissed off, I can hardly even talk about it. When I was going through those bank statements, my hands were shaking like crazy. That asshole is robbing my mom blind.”

“We don’t know that yet.”

“You have another explanation?”

“There are a couple of possibilities.”

Several, really.

I thought of something. “Do you know if Frank is having
any financial difficulties? Maybe he worked it so he still had access to your mom’s accounts. Maybe that’s why he never mentioned that he knew about all the activity.”

“Geez, you really do have a suspicious mind.”

“That’s right. The question is, Do you think Frank is capable of doing something like that?”

“No way. Even if he wanted to, her money was completely separate. I remember Mom talking about how, for once, she was finally on her own. That was right after the courts and the lawyers got done. Plus, the last time I spoke to Frank, he told me that this was the worst April ever, because he’d made more money than he’d ever made in his life. Taxes, he was talking about He had to pay out so much in taxes.”

“Okay, so we eliminate Frank. That leaves Merlot. Wait till I get the papers, let’s see what I can come up with.” I thought of something else. “Did she get any cash advances on her credit card?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

“Did she sell or cash in any stocks and bonds?”

“There was nothing in the mail about it. Jesus, I’m shaking again. More than two hundred thousand dollars, most of my mom’s cash savings gone in less than four months.” Her voice broke slightly, the transition from fear to anger. “The son-of-a-bitch. You don’t think he took her off someplace to hurt her? Like get rid of her, I mean. The woman he stole all the money from and who witnessed what an asshole he is?”

I said, “Amanda, calm down. There’s absolutely no reason to suspect something like that. Maybe she moved the money to another account she’s set up. Maybe she was investing in stocks or more CDs.”